


Requiem for a Hero

by ForgivenWhimsy



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Bad end, Dark fic, Depression, F/M, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgivenWhimsy/pseuds/ForgivenWhimsy
Summary: Miriah Surana had done everything asked of her. Saved the whole bloody world. And yet all she wants is for Ferelden to burn around her, Alistair is gone, and it's her fault.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Surana (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Requiem for a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was written back in 2015-16 as a writing exercise exploring my very first ever play through Origins back in 2009, and was unearthed when I was perusing my wip folder last night. At the time, I had no idea that putting Alistair on the throne while being anything other then a Cousland would result in him breaking up with your warden. I'd never given that particular Surana a character, until I wrote this fic, exploring it from a character POV instead of just from a player pov. It went dark.

Miriah Surana is not a hero. She is vindictive and cruel, she is petty and self centered. Somehow years ago she had been spared death, or worse, Tranquility, when she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Years ago she met his golden shining face amidst so much chaos. Years ago she fell in love and saved the world through the sheer force of her will. 

She was made to choose, so many choices that should have never been hers and yet people greater than her had laid the decisions at her feet. So she killed the traitor, for her love, because he demanded it, burning Loghain alive with her feared magic. Tranquility no longer an option, not when she had repaired and saved so much of Ferelden, secure in her relationship, believing herself protected by his love and position. She declared that her partner, her golden man, fierce and loyal and benevolent, everything she wasn’t, was to be crowned king. Her Alistair, her everything, her proof of good in the backwards and mad world.

He wasn’t supposed to end it. In her haste to place her lover on the throne she hadn’t thought that she wouldn’t be a suitable queen, in her vanity she forgot about the power that coursed through her and the shape of her ears, he had made her forget with his love. Elf. Mage. If she was not fit to rule then why lay so many choices on her, why make her decide the fate of so many? Her golden man, her beautiful lover, ridiculous and kind and loyal, all the things she wasn’t, he told her she could not be queen. He told her they could not be together lest she accept to be nothing more than a mistress, and Miriah had slapped him across his heartbroken face. Screamed obscenities, hit him, beating a ragged and furious tempo across his chest. No. Not good enough. She left. Her heart fell apart, and she dashed the rose on the stone floor of her room, crushing the petals beneath her heel. Betrayed. There was no good in the world after all.

The witch came, offering a way to live, offering salvation, even if it had a cost. Had she never come to Miriah then perhaps the sick, and cruel, and horrible idea would have never come to her. She declined the witch, there would be no ritual, and the hateful golden king would rule with a twisted thorn and crushed rose for a heart. He would feel the pain she felt, and he would feel it until the day he died. 

Miriah Surana is not a hero. She would hurt him, she would maim him with her death, her very soul would blink out of existence and he would know that he was the cause. What life could she have if he wasn’t beside her. Elf. Mage. When the day was won and she yet lived, they would look at her with fear, hide her away behind walls and Templars. There was no future, and so she would gladly do her duty, and whisper in his ear, “this is your doing.” 

He betrayed her a second time, his love turned to ash in her throat while she screamed. He struck the blow, and his soul blinked out of existence. She howled, the pain breaking her apart, nails rending her flesh, wanting to dig out her eyes, and yet she breathed, and yet she lived, and yet, and yet, and yet…..she loved him still. “My love, you fool, don’t leave me. Forgive me.” 

She disappeared, leaving them all.

She remains, inviting demons to take her, to give her sweet lies, and yet her will drives them away. She waits in a stupor of existence that offends her very being, she waits for the singing to claim her. Her hate, and her guilt, and her sorrow are her closest friends. She can no longer remember what it feels like to be good, to be whole and loved. Miriah Surana is vain and cruel and selfish and everything he wasn’t, and she can not find the will to become what he had always wanted her to be. A hero.


End file.
